The Madness Within
by FloofyTsuki
Summary: This, my friends, is the beginning of a romance between our very own Daedric Prince of madness... and cheese! Wait... Was it cheese?... Join Krystal Spellbinder, a nord raised Altmer on her perilous journey to New Sheoth. Sheo x OC


_Our story begins in the Solitude Botanical Gardens... No? That's not where we are? Well it's where ever "here" is that our story starts. This is the paralogue, and only the paralogue. NOT to be confused with Chapter One! One could even say, this is CHAPTER ZERO! HA!... This, my friends, is the beginning of a romance between a Daedric Prince and cheese! Was it cheese?... Huh._

 _Regardless! This false beginning really just sets the stage for the TRUE beginning! It was important to gloss over some dialogue options which inspired the whole idea to start with! So much of this particular page is truly dialogue which belongs to Bethesda and it's lore. Or is it that it's my interpretation of the lore? HA! We all know Elder Scrolls lore is truly deeper than just one game, so don't worry._

 _Skyrim may have started my fancy with Sheogorath, but it certainly didn't start my fancy to the Elder Scrolls. Morrowind was my introduction 3_

 _I will do my best to stay as lore friendly as possible._

 _My main character is as follows:_

 _Krystal Spellbinder  
Race: High Elf/Altmer  
Affiliations: Headmaster of the College of Winterhold/Dovahkiin  
Background: Orphaned at a young age, then taken in by a couple of nords fleeing the Oblivion crisis in the 3rd Era. They raised her to be a warrior until they died of old age. After that, Krystal saw fit to study magic. Joined the college. Earned the title of Headmaster. Then Consequently got involved with the dragon crisis which came out of the blue from seemingly no where._

 _Subject to Change  
This is a Sheo x OC type of romance story _

The realm was quiet. Too quiet. Not even the wind blew here. Krystal rubbed her eyes, adjusting to the sudden change of scenery from the dusty old shut off wing of the Solitude Castle.

"More tea, Pelly my dear?"

"Oh, I couldn't. It goes right through me. Besides, I have so many things to do. So many detractors and undesirables, naysayers, buffoons. My...My headsman hasn't slept in three days."

The voices of two men not far in front of her broke the ringing silence. Krystal opened her eyes and looked over at the two speakers. One, sitting upon a throne was dressed in two different colored suits at once. One half was purple, the other red. He looked absolute beside himself with joy. By contrast, across from him was a nord with a very bored, almost annoyed expression. "Pelly" he called him?

"You are far too hard on yourself, my dear, sweet, homicidally insane Pelagius. What would the people do without you?" The oddly dressed man seemed absolutely mirthful. The speed of his speech, odd inflections, and curious accent were very strange to Krystal. "Dance? Sing? Smile? HA! Grow old? You are the best Septim that has ever ruled. Well, except for that Martin fellow, but he turned into a Dragon god, and that's hardly sporting. You know, I was there for that whole sordid affair. Marvelous time! Butterflies, blood, a Fox, a severed head... Oh, and the cheese! To die for."

"Yes, yes, as you've said countless times before." The man named Pelagius had his back towards Krystal, but it was clear that he was rolling his eyes.

"Harumph!" The speed and content of the retort made Krystal grin a bit. The funny man was clearly fairly quick witted. And rather amusing to observe. "Well, if you're going to be like that, I think its best I take my leave. A good day to you, sir. I said good day!"

"Yes. Leave me to my ceaseless responsibilities and burdens." Pelagius mumbled to himself as he was teleported away in a very familiar purple magical gate.

"How rude!" He exclaimed to the empty air. "Can't be bothered to host an old friend for a decade or two." He then peered towards Krystal without surprise, standing up and crossing his arms.

"Who… Who was that?" Krystal approached slowly. Upon closer inspection, the man had a white beard and hair, but a very young looking face. Cat-slitted eyes black eyes with glowing golden irises regarded her in silence for a moment.

"Emperor Pelagius III," he responded soundly. Krystal couldn't even pick out his strange accent. It seemed otherworldly. But it was pretty obvious he was a Daedra. "Now surely even you know about Pelagius' decree?" He didn't wait for a response. "On his deathbed - oh, and this was inspired - he forbade... death! HA! That's right! Death! Outlawed!"

This caught her by surprise, that the altmer cracked a grin. "So… Where are we exactly?"

"Why, exactly inside the mind of Pelagius, silly." His tone sounded mocking. "Oh. Is it your... first time?"

Krystal stared at the man for a moment, shifting uncomfortably. "I don't really… I… What? Yes. Uh.." She was getting flustered at trying to keep up with the speed of things. "I'm just here to deliver a message."

"Reeaaaallllyyyy?" He sounded very excited. "Ooh, ooh, what kind of message? A song? A summons? Wait, I know! A death threat written on the back of an Argonian concubine! Those are my favorites."

Krystal stared at him.

"Well? Spit it out, mortal. I haven't got an eternity! Actually... I do. Little joke. But seriously. What's the message?"

"I was sent to get you from your vacation."

"Were you now? By whom?"

She opened her mouth to reply but was quickly cut off, the man raising a palm towards her. "Wait! Don't tell me! I want to guess! Was it Molag? No, no... Little Tim, the toymaker's son? Eh? … The ghost of King Lysandus? Or was it... Yes! Stanley, that talking grapefruit from Passwall. Hehheh… Wrong on all accounts, aren't I?" He laughed. "No matter! Honestly, I don't want to know. Why ruin the surprise? But more to the point." His expression immediately darkened. His tone dropping. "Do you - tiny, puny, expendable little mortal - actually think you can convince me to leave? Because that's... crazy. You do realize who you're dealing with here?"

He was squaring off on her, his yellow eyes glittering with daring malice. Krystal didn't dare to drop her gaze from him. "I'm afraid I don't know, sir."

"Wrong! Actually, you do. Sort of. I am a part of you, little mortal. I am a shadow in your subconscious, a blemish on your fragile little psyche. You know me. You just don't know it. Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness. At your service."

She huffed. So he really was a Daedric Prince. Wasn't he considered one of the four of the "House of Troubles?" Her resolve to complete the request of the poor dunmer did not waiver, however. "Anyways, are you going to return?"

"Now that's the real question, isn't it? Because honestly, how much time off could a demented Daedra really need? So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to leave. That's right. I'm done. Holiday... complete. Time to return to the hum drum day-to-day. On one condition." He held up a finger. "You have to find the way out first. Good luck with that."

"Okay, what's the catch?" Krystal pushed. She'd ultimately figure out how to get out, she was definitely sure of that. She was the Dovahkiin after all. Not only that, but she had powerful magic on her side. She had her ways. But she wasn't willing to let this powerful Daedra know this yet.

"Ha! I do love it when the mortals know they're being manipulated. Makes things infinitely more interesting." He clapped his hands together merrily before continuing on. "Care to take a look around? This is not, I dare say, the Solitude botanical gardens. Have you any idea where you are? Where you truly are?"

Again, he spared no moment for a reply.

"Welcome to the deceptively verdant mind of the Emperor Pelagius III. That's right! You're in the head of a dead, homicidally insane monarch. Now, I know what you're thinking. Can I still rely on my swords and spells and sneaking and all that nonsense? Sure, sure. Or... you could use... The Wabbajack! Huh? Huh? Didn't see that coming, did you?"

Krystal stared at the staff that had appeared in her hand. It was a curious looking thing. The carvings looked like men screaming in agony, a red orb of magical light churning within their collective mouthes. The trials were easy enough before her. It helped that Sheo himself was aiding her with hints, though cleverly hidden in double phrasing. The only one she had a little trouble with was the one about Pelagius's paranoia. The goal was not as clearly defined as the others. Sheogorath had to offer a little help, urging her that trouble could come from "anywhere."

But ultimately, as she knew she would, she succeeded. Triumphant, she returned to the now seated Sheo enjoying a slice of cheese and some tea.

"There! He's fixed!"

"Hmmmm... 'Fixed' is such a subjective term. I think 'treated' is far more appropriate, don't you? Like one does to a rash, or an arrow in the face." He seemed truly offended. "Ah, but no matter. Heartless mortal that you are, you've actually succeeded and survived. I am forced to honor my end of the bargain. So congratulations! You're free to go! I... have been known to change my mind. So... go. Really."

Krystal took a few steps back before stopping undecidedly short. She figured he would send her back of his own power, and hadn't actually put any thought into escaping. She started going over her various conjuration spells.

Sheogorath stood up and frowned. "Pelagius Septim the Third, once the Mad Emperor of Tamriel, now so boringly sane. I always knew he had it in him!" He grinned and looked over at Krystal. "Well, I suppose it's back to the Shivering Isles. The trouble Haskill can get into while I'm gone simply boggles the mind... Let's make sure I'm not forgetting anything. Clothes? Check. Beard? Check! Luggage? Luggage! Now where did I leave my luggage?"

Dervenin, the dunmer from the streets was summoned in the same manner Pelagius had exited. He was absolutely delighted. "Master! You've taken me back! Does this mean we're going home? Oh, happy times! I can't wait to..."

"-Yes, yes, that's quite enough celebration. Let's send you ahead, shall we?"

As soon as he appeared he was suddenly transported back through the same portal to wherever Sheogorath sent him.

"And as for you," he said softly, turning towards Krystal, cupping her chin in his hand. "…My little mortal minion... Feel free to keep the Wabbajack. As a symbol of my... Oh, just take the damn thing. You take care of yourself, now. And if you ever find yourself up in New Sheoth, do look me up. We can share a strawberry torte. Ta ta!"

Krystal blinked and suddenly she was back in that dusty old abandoned wing of the castle. She took a moment to adjust again, still feeling as through he still had her chin in his hand. She will never get used to the sudden jarring of a Daedric level of teleportation magic.


End file.
